I Love New York
by Feral
Summary: Story about a gal that gets turned into a mutant lizard, meets up with Mondo & the Turtles, and has a small adventure. Along the way, she learns life is not like the comics. No Romance for a change! Please R&R! :D


Disclaimer: TMNT is one of the greatest themes ever, and while I'd love to claim it, I can't. Cherie is my character, however, and I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't try to steal her.  
  
If ya want to talk to me/meet Cherie through RPG, join us at TMNT MUSH – you'll need telnet/something like telnet to connect: host: www.deepfire.net port: 3000  
  
Note: In all my fanfics, you'll never see a turtle with breasts. Why? Turtles can't have breasts, they have shells. And, keeping to the Mirage/Eastman & Laird tradition, who yanked the contract from Saban for creating a turtle with breasts, you won't find any of that awful Saban series in any of my fics. Yes, I am one of those who completely supported Laird's decision to forcefully yank Saban's contract to the show. For those who don't agree…sorry…I am very pleased that Laird wishes to keep the Turtles in their original context as he portrayed them so many years ago in the original comics. No offense intended to anyone. So please don't ask me to do something of that nature. Otherwise, if you wish for me to write a story for you, just send me an email (jillsjungleus@yahoo.com) and give me a few details. :)  
  
Final Note: This story is a bit goofy, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. Yes, the views of Cherie reflect the views of the writer…and yes, Cherie is basically the writer as a Mutant. No, there is no goofy romance in this…no romance whatsoever because everyone does romance and I don't want to bore you especially with some more romance. (Also because I really do suck at writing romantic scenes, but don't let that secret out.)  
  
I Love New York  
  
Or  
  
Life Ain't Like the Movies…or Comics  
  
Life changes in the blink of an eye, ya know? One moment, you're running, hoping you're not late for work, the next, you're covered in goo and mutating into your pet lizard. I swear…if life wasn't better now than it was before, I might just have gone nuts. I mean, who wouldn't go nuts in this situation? But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from somewhere near the beginning.  
  
  
  
I was born to David and Cherie Thompson, but my mother died in childbirth. My father named me after my mother, Cherie. But he didn't survive too well after that…when I was 10, he just quit wanting to live. Guess he really loved my mother…never knew if he loved me as much. Ask the caring adults, they say 'of course he loved you'. Ask my Aunt, and she'll say 'Why do you think he died?' Real classic lady, isn't she?  
  
Anyway, after David died, I was shipped of to live with Aunty Bernie, to give her the title she didn't like. Bern and I didn't get along, to say the least, and I learned to just keep out of her way. We lived in a miserable little apartment, but I had my own room. I matured at an early age, I guess, did fairly well in school, and when I was 15, I managed to get a job at Rocky's, a burger joint in Chelsea. Life wasn't too shabby, you know? With the job, I managed to be able to keep completely away from my Aunt, except when I had to come home and sleep. But a few minutes with Medusa wasn't too bad, I had a nice place to sleep, after all. Not everyone in New York City can claim that.  
  
I had one true love in life…well…two, but they were intertwined anyway. Rock music, the good ol' stuff like Guns'N'Roses, Def Leppard, Iron Maiden, and so on, and playing the drums. I even managed to buy myself a drum set, rather nice, probably the only nice thing I ever had…and will ever have. Okay, make that three true loves in life. The third was my lizard, Julie, a Chinese Water Dragon that some old lady in Chinatown gave me because she couldn't take care of it. Real pretty little lizard, the only real friend I ever had. Life wasn't too bad at this time.  
  
But once life gets to a high point, it always comes crashing down. Cue ominous theme. I  
  
had gotten out of school late one day and had to rush home to get my uniform. And from home, I had to rush to work. Only I never made it to Rocky's. A tree root had pushed the pavement up on the sidewalk and I tripped at this point, landing in a puddle of this green goo. I didn't think much of it, save 'great, toxic waste in the streets again' and got up. That's when the strangest thing happened. I started transforming, or mutating, as Mondo put it. Changing into a lizard, into Julie, actually. It was painless…over in a matter of minutes. But when it was done…I was a lizard-girl, tail, scales, claws, everything.  
  
Thankfully, there was no one around to gawk at me. I think I handled it fairly well; I mean, I only ran into a wall in my hurry twice, and I did manage to somehow scale that wall quick enough, with minimal bruising. I used to live in the Lower West Side, not the nicest of places in New York City; it's called Hell's Kitchen for a good reason. There was an abandoned building nearby, conveniently, and I took shelter in that. I think I fell asleep at that moment, after the initial shock. When I woke, I was disheartened to see it wasn't all just a freakish dream. I was still Lizard Girl.  
  
I adjusted quickly…just something natural, I guess. Being shuffled and put off so easily in life'll do that to you. I kept to the rooftops for the most part that night and tried to get used to the idea of having a tail. Gotta keep a better eye on your behind when there's an extra appendage there. I traveled southwards in Manhattan, eventually coming to Tribeca, where there are a number of abandoned buildings. I claimed one, sort of. Home was a three-story building, dusty, full of cobwebs, but it would work out. Over the next few nights, I stole into Aunt Bern's apartment and managed to bring most of my stuff over. I left a note, saying I went my own way, and I guess she read it and didn't care because I never saw any police outside her house. Best thing about this new home – I could play my music loud and jam out on my set any time I wanted.  
  
Having a tail was pretty nice, after awhile, so long as I remembered to get it out of the way before I shut the door. I could even try out some fantastic new drumbeats with my tail…like having a third hand. Having to punch holes in the back of all my clothes wasn't the greatest thing, but whatever works, right? But back to the story…as if you wanted to read about cutting holes in pants for tails.  
  
You can't imagine how much money New Yorkers seem to drop. I swear, you know those guys who stand on the street corners asking for money? I bet most of them make some good money by picking up what others drop. Moving around town was no problem…so long as I didn't go out in too much light and kept my trenchcoat pulled around, folks thought I was just another grungy character on the scene. A solitary freak on the streets…not that New York lacks freaks, I'm just a bit freakier than most.  
  
It never even crossed my mind that there were others like me, not until I actually came across another one. I was sitting on my rooftop, jamming out to Welcome to the Jungle, a most excellent song by one of the greatest bands ever, when suddenly this guy comes along, skating on the roofs! Not just any guy either, otherwise we would have never met. He had a tail, which was the first thing I noticed, besides the obvious fact that he was up on the rooftops with a skateboard. I think now that the music drew him…Mondo was always a music nut.  
  
So anyway, I was sitting there, brow raised, mouth open as he came closer. He came over and picked up his skateboard, giving me the same odd look, before he finally said something.  
  
"Whoa…s'like…a female me." Real intelligent guy, that one.  
  
It took me awhile to say anything, but before he could give me another odd look, I stood up, "Uh…hi." Yea, guess I'm no witty person either.  
  
Luckily Mondo's not shy, otherwise we might not have gotten past that. "People call me Mondo Gecko Esquire, but you can call me Mondo Gecko. Or just Mondo," he greeted, thrusting out a glove-covered hand…paw…lizard-type thing.  
  
"Uh…Cherie. Just Cherie," I said with a shrug, shaking his hand.  
  
"So you like GNR, huh?"  
  
"Yea. Not a bad band."  
  
"A GNR fan with a Poison look?" he asked, glancing towards the bandana I had tied around my head. It was a rather neat thing, I thought, blue bandana tied around my head, with my bangs sticking over. But he was right, the lead singer of Poison wore his hair just like that often enough, if a bit more outlandish, but hey, I looked better with it. Bluish-green lizard gal, blue bandana, white hair? It just looks good.  
  
"Guess so. What about you? Going for the rockers-should-skate look?" I asked, grinning crookedly. I adjusted to the shock quickly, but I already told you that, I'm just really adaptable.  
  
"Hey, at least I'm not crossing a good thing and a bad thing, I mean, everyone knows Poison shouldn't have been included in the least of good rockers, after all."  
  
"If it looks good, it looks good, is all I can say, bud. End of story."  
  
We both started laughing. It was actually pretty nice, knowing I wasn't the only freak out there. We hung out the rest of the night, talking rock music, how geeky a lot of the would-be gangster kids looked walking around with their hair in nets, and various other things. He even played guitar, how cool is that? It seemed like an ideal thing, having Mondo as a friend. We were so much alike, yet different enough to not get on each other's nerves. We hung out a lot, actually, talking, joking, but most just hung out. He explained a lot to me, about mutating, how there were actually more mutants out there, just keeping a low profile.  
  
One night he showed up and said he was going to have pizza with some friends; he wanted to know if I wanted to come along. It sounded like a good opportunity to meet some new mutants, so I went. Meet new mutants…that must really sound like a particularly sad dating service. A few friends actually meant four turtles and a rat, who are actually some pretty cool guys.  
  
We traveled northward, to the West Side someplace, and then entered the sewers, which was strange enough, let me tell you. Luckily my sense of smell wasn't too grand, or I might have added the stench to the list of 10 Putrid Reasons Never to Visit New York Sewers. But then seeing a turtle waiting for us, well, you've heard of giant crocodiles living the sewers, why not giant turtles? Yea, he's a mutant, but it takes everyone some time to adjust to the whole idea.  
  
"Hey, Mondo! Long time no see, buddy! Who's this?"  
  
"She's Cherie, recent addition to the mutant race, and a personal friend of Yours Truly," Mondo replied, by way of introducing me.  
  
I smirked and rolled my eyes at Mondo before doing some funky little hand-shake thing with the turtle.  
  
"Name's Michaelangelo…"  
  
"But everyone calls him Mikey," Mondo interrupted.  
  
"Mikey Esquire?" I intoned, a brow raised as if completely serious. I think it took them a moment to realize that I was joking. So I've never been good with original humor. It's not like I'm the only one out there, you know.  
  
There's not much to say about the 'normal'…if any of it can be called normal…part of that night, without going into the usual 'oh, we had a good time, goofed around, blah blah blah blah blah.' It was just a group of friends hanging out. On a rooftop.  
  
But that's not that went on. Whoa, I know that when that line is heard, most stories lapse into something about romance, but trust me, this isn't going to be that way. After all…romance is highly overrated…all that kissing and touching…and…yuck. Who wants to swap saliva with a /male/ after all? No one knows where they've been.  
  
Back to the story. We were having a good time when this feeling sorta stole over me. I think Leonardo, one of the turtle-brothers felt it too, as well as the old rat Splinter, 'cause they got this look – probably the same look I had. I shouldn't have looked around…or maybe I should have…never really thought about that part. But when I did turn my head to glance around, there they were. They being a whole horde of 500 guys dressed in purple pajamas. Okay, so maybe there wasn't 500, but there was a lot of them. Appeared out of no where like, you'll never guess, ninjas! No, seriously, these guys were stealthy and knew all sorts of kung-fu moves and whatnot. I later learned that not only were these pajama-goons ninjas, but so were the four turtles and even Splinter. What a world. I love New York.  
  
I gave what I've often turned a grunt-shriek. That got everyone's attention and suddenly everyone was bristling with weapons. With the exception of myself. I've never liked those twits in the movies, the girls, who shriek and play helpless and all that jazz. Yet there I was…one of those twits who played helpless, 'cept I wasn't playing. But then again, I wasn't entirely helpless, I suppose. I had claws…and a tail…so…right. Starting to let my blond streak take over. Give me a minute to recover. S'what happens when you get excited and try to explain everything how it truly deserves yet fail miserably to do so.  
  
  
  
Okay…so now where was I? Oh, yea. Ninjas. Ninjas are some of the coolest folk ever, let me tell you. Without a word, they swarmed after us, and, like any good fighting team, though we weren't a team, we formed a circle-thing, back to back. The guys fought marvelously, it was a real pleasure seeing the moves that I was brought up on adoring in movies and tv shows executed in real life, right before my own two eyes. But I only caught flashes of it, seeing as how I had to deal with keeping myself alive.  
  
They charged, like I said, and several came right for me. With weapons, no less. Attacking an unarmed girl without weapons…what brave fellows. I threw myself to the ground and scrambled – yes, on all fours – around the group and out of the way. I'm not a fighter…never been in a fistfight in all my life, so I had no idea what to do except get out of the way. Which is what I did for most of the 'battle'. I did try one or two things…like tripping them or whacking someone with my tail, but nothing glamorous. In all truth…I would have considered myself one of those twitty females, if I hadn't tried to keep away and gave a few hits of my own.  
  
The guys were doing a wonderful job…there was actually a feeling of un-seriousness…if that's a word, which I doubt, when the situation was very serious. We were in a load of trouble, but it sure didn't feel that way. Which is probably best, because I would have really freaked out if I thought of what could really happen.  
  
But all good things come to an end, just as this one did. I really hate the part I played in this. How I despised these types in the movies. I missed a figure behind me and was suddenly grabbed…placed in a headlock, of all things indignant. The same move I used to pull on the bullies when I was little. I choked, kicked and lashed all around, but the choking eventually became a bit too much. So I stopped.  
  
It was then that it seemed the battle for the bad guys, the dudes in the pajamas of course, was going the wrong way. With a call from somewhere of, "Ninja vanish!" and a cloud of smoke, they left. And took me with them. I gave them a good fight, I should think, struggling all the way, until the lack of air eventually made me pass out. Not breathing'll do that to you.  
  
Let me just say, if this was a movie, I would have been booing and throwing popcorn at the screen for the writers doing the typical thing – having the damsel carried off by the bad guys.  
  
  
  
Reese's Pieces are some of the greatest candy ever. I think I especially like them because they were in the E.T. movie. I hadn't had a bag of those in so long…most people cling to tight to them to let them drop for us muties to try and snag. I tried once and it ended up in disas-  
  
That's when I came to, rather suddenly. It was the cold that woke me, I think. Laying on a freezing surface, I noticed it was rather dark. And cold. And very unnatural feeling. Not to mention it was cold. You would think they would have heating in a hideout like that, but I guess it doesn't work that way in real life. I've watched too many movies.  
  
I sat up, felt a bit stiff from lying on the cold, hard, flat surface for however long it was, and took stock of my surroundings. Guess what? It was really dark. Dark enough, in fact, that I couldn't see much at all. I felt around and eventually came to the conclusion that I was in a cage of sorts…there were three solid walls and one 'wall' that was actually a bunch of bars, like a prison. There was a faint light outside of my cell, but I couldn't distinguish much with it.  
  
I was there in the cell for quite some time, hours it felt. How long it was I'll never know because no one ever bothered to say, "Oh, Cherie, you've been in there for this many hours now." But I didn't sit idle, at least not the whole time. In the beginning, I did feel around, look for a way out, pound the walls, you know, the whole set up where the good guy should eventually find someway out through some miracle. Of course there was nothing – right then, it was clear to me: I was dealing with bad guys that weren't complete idiots. Well thanks a lot. How was I supposed to employ everything I learned from He-Man and Batman then?  
  
Eventually someone came, another pajama-ed goon, unlocked my cage, and dragged me out by an arm. I was happy to follow…sitting in near complete dark, all alone, gets a bit spooky after awhile. We went towards the light…towards the light…and about that time I had to shut my eyes briefly, to let them adjust.  
  
When I opened them again, I was in another part of this hideout. Around were several other mooks in the purple spandex, practicing or something, or just standing around. But that's not what concerned me. Anyone could see these mooks, while better than your average street fighter, which I was not, were sort of goofs. They weren't clumsy, mind you, but they certainly lacked discipline or something…you know, whatever the old ninja masters always talk about.  
  
What concerned me was the guy they were leading me towards. He was big, not tall or fat mind you, but big. You know the guy at the beach that goes around kicking sand at the 90lb weaklings? Big, like that, only this guy had more dignity and class. Heck, I might have been inclined to think him rather cool…if he wasn't the bad guy. How did I know he was the bad guy…easy…he's in a dark place with all the guys that attacked us. It doesn't take Einstein to realize something like that, after all.  
  
He thrust a spike-covered hand underneath my chin in a threatening manner and studied me for a moment. Needless to say, I was a bit scared. Yes, I can admit that. He was so quiet…nothing like a quiet psycho to really work on the nerves. But finally he spoke. Finally.  
  
"Where are the Turtles?"  
  
It took me a moment to respond, so caught up in wondering how many spikes he had on his suit to impale folks upon, but I respond, thanks to the prompting by him suddenly digging the hand-spikes into my chin and drawing a bit of blood. Nothing like pain to get you moving, right?  
  
"Ow! I…Uh…Have no clue, honestly." I swallowed against the spikes but made no move to yank my head away. Quick movements and psychos usually don't work out well. Not to mention I was 'somewhere between bedwetting and a near death experience', to quote a certain Muppet. He yanked his arm away in disgust and turned around, obviously through with me. I would have been relieved…save his next comment was less than promising.  
  
"Dispose of her. And next time do not waste my time and the time of my guards with such a useless captive."  
  
Dispose? I would have liked to believe that meant throw me in the garbage, like it should have, but I had the feeling it didn't. And having read enough comics over time, I was pretty sure it meant kill me. Which wasn't a good thing. So, naturally, I panicked. I kicked, I flailed, and struggled. Somehow it escaped me to plead, but right now, I'm pretty happy I didn't plead…no point in getting downright disgusting.  
  
Up to this point, life had been a roller coaster, and I was on the down part…and going further down. Nothing was turning out like it should have and I'd begun to really rue the day I even got a job. But about that time, my luck started kicking in. I don't know how it happened, but I managed to get one arm free from the guards that were dragging me away. I turned and bit the other, now that I could reach, and he let go too. Immediately I shot off and scrambled up the nearest wall, thanks to my claws. I couldn't hang on as well as Mondo could, but at least I was at a part where they couldn't get me, for the time.  
  
"Master Shredder!" one of the goons called, as if he needed this 'Master Shredder' to tell him what to do, in classic mook-follower style.  
  
Shredder, so I termed him and later learned the term was right, whirled around, spotted me, and glared. I was in trouble again. You know how they say that thing, out of the pot and into the fire or frying pan or something like that? That was this situation. They carried guns. Who would have thought? Ninjas with guns…sheesh. I only had a moment to realize this and give a hopeless whimper before I had to scramble again. I lost my hold on the walls and hit the ground at a run, on all fours oddly enough, dashing through the crowd. But the doors were shut…and I was as good as dead.  
  
I was eventually cornered and backed against the wall, looking desperately for a way out. I was too young to die…really, I was. But it seems Lady Luck – why does it have to be a lady? Why not Mr. Luck? Anyway…my luck, I think, hit a high point at that time because the doors burst open a moment later, a sai sailed through the air, and my foot was nearly shot. But I wasn't shot! In burst the guys, led by Mondo himself. Seems I had a real classic rescue before me – five guys, all for one damsel. You know, I always thought the girl in those kind of movies was stupid, but being in her shoes – not that this was a movie – kind of changed my opinion.  
  
You can't imagine how happy I was to see them. But of course I didn't tell them that…that would have made me almost equal with the twitty girls in those types of movies. Instead, I said something a little more appropriate.  
  
"About time! I was beginning to think I was gonna really die." With the goons distracted by the sudden arrival, I tore off, making for my saviors. I could have kissed each and every one of them, but there was no time for that. So I made for my fellow lizard and leaped onto him, arms wrapping around his neck, and planting a…scaly one on his equally scaly cheek. "Let's get outta here, please."  
  
"I second that," Michaelangelo piped up in the background, hammering away at one of the purple ninjas.  
  
"Everyone out, on the double," Leonardo commanded. We were only happy to oblige. I don't think I've ever wanted to run as much as I did then. I led the gang out of there…because of a few reasons, but mostly because I wanted out and they were heroic enough to make sure we could get out. Heroes are cool like that.  
  
We exited at the top of the building and Raphael and Leonardo threw themselves against the doors to prevent the baddies from coming out. I didn't even have a moment to ponder how the heck we were on top of a building because Leonardo threw a grappling hook attached to a rope at the next building, hooked it, and shoved me forward onto it. Ever walk on a rope? It's hard. But I did it…probably because I was too confused and hurried to ponder the fact I was at a height above the streets where, if I fell, I'd splatter into a million pieces among all the gore. From there, we crossed a few other buildings like that, eventually loosing the Foot completely.  
  
How? Like I said, I have no clue. It all just sort of blurred. A convenient escape, no doubt. All in all, it came to an end remarkably quickly and just sort of left me about to tip over, wondering where the stupendous finale went.  
  
"Why don't you two come stay with us a few days…just to make sure the Foot don't come  
  
after you guys again?" Leonardo spoke, to me, I figured out a moment later. And to Mondo.  
  
"Sure," Mondo replied, looking towards me.  
  
"Just as simple as that? I'm rescued and asked to stay with you guys a bit? Uh. Yea, sure," I babbled, still wondering how the heck we had managed to get this far.  
  
"Just follow us," Leonardo said. I believe he added a chuckle, but my mind was just barely catching up, so I didn't really pay attention.  
  
"That was quick. To say the least," I commented, watching as Raphael disappeared down the fire escape of the building.  
  
"The rescue? I thought you said we took too long?" Mondo commented, a reptilian brow raising.  
  
"Nah…the…" I glanced around, trying to remember which direction we had come from, but gave up. "Crossing all the buildings and stuff."  
  
"It could have taken longer babe," he said with a shrug. "But life's like that, you know? It ain't like the movies, after all. Just gotta take it as it comes and roll with it. Or else you get run over."  
  
"Shut up and get moving," I said, shoving Mondo forward, a crooked grin on my muzzle. "If you're gonna talk that much, you might as well quote something from Def Leppard or something."  
  
"Pour some sugar on me?"  
  
"Only if you promise to squeeze a little, squeeze a little, tease a little more."  
  
  
  
Man. I love New York. 


End file.
